Destiny
by astraplain
Summary: A Gorgeous Carat rewrite starting at the end of the manga's first story arc.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Gorgeous Carat belongs to You Higuri

They drove towards home mostly in silence, with Florian's head turned towards his side of the car. The blond was almost motionless, with his hands placed carefully on his thighs and his back straight. The unnatural stillness unnerved Ray enough that he made small attempts at conversation, all of which fell flat. He finally gave up and concentrated on getting them away from the ruins of the Rochefort ancestral castle, back to the comforting bustle of Paris.

It was twilight when Ray stopped at a brightly lit inn. Without a word he climbed down from the car and stretched, glad for the chance to move. He turned and watched as the expressionless blond crossed in front of the vehicle to stand at his side. Those amethyst eyes were startling against skin that was paler than usual.

"I'm too tired to drive anymore tonight," Ray lied smoothly, leading the way into the building. The lobby was simply decorated but clean and welcoming with a wooden counter for registration and two doorways, one on the left leading into the pub and one on the right leading towards the guest rooms.

Ray nodded to the hostess who greeted them and requested rooms for the evening. He kept an eye on Florian who was standing as unobtrusively as possible beside the wall. Several moments of discussion later, he finally paid for the only available room and motioned impatiently for Florian to join him.

They followed the hostess through the right-hand doorway to the stairway at the end of the hall. One flight up they stopped mid-way down the hall. The hostess unlocked the door then turned and handed Ray the key.

"Shall I send dinner for you, sir?" she asked politely, her eyes flicking only briefly towards Florian before returning to Ray. They had attempted to wipe away the worst of the dust and grime from their skin and clothing but neither of them were at their best.

"Please. Two of the house special." He was about to dismiss her, but added, "Tea and dessert as well as brandy, then we're not to be disturbed again. My companion requires rest."

"Of course, sir." The pleasant, stout woman nodded briskly and bustled away to see that their dinners were prepared. Ray led Florian into the room and closed the door. He barely glanced at their surroundings, not caring about the small sitting area with its well worn armchairs and knick-knacks. He was more interested in tending to his troublesome companion.

"The bedroom and bath are in there. Go clean yourself up before dinner. You'll feel better."

Florian obeyed in silence, carefully removing his soiled jacket and vest and draping them over the stiff-backed chair near the bed. He ignored Ray, who stood in the doorway watching, and strode into the bathroom, closing the door firmly.

Ray waited until he heard the water running before he removed his own dusty, dirt-streaked jacket and dropped into a chair. He was suddenly exhausted and indulged in a wide yawn, letting his head fall back against the cushioned seat back. He hated the thought of spending the night and part of tomorrow in his dirty clothes but they didn't have a change of clothes or even a toothbrush between them and all the shops would be closed by now.

Left alone with no distractions, Ray's mind wandered back to the Rochefort castle and the unpleasant surprises it held. The loss of the diamond was a disappointment, of course, but it could have been a much greater loss. Without assistance he never would have found the secret passage in time to free Florian. The blond would have suffered the same fate as his aunt and uncle whose corpses weren't likely to be found for years, if ever.

Pushing that thought firmly aside, Ray shifted, turning his gaze to the bathroom door. He was suddenly aware of what he wasn't hearing. A moment of hesitation, and Ray was on his feet moving quietly towards that door. He listed carefully and still heard nothing. It was only when he pressed his ear against the door that he heard the soft sounds of weeping. He'd been expecting tears all afternoon, and the tension of waiting for them, had worn away his patience.

Perhaps Florian would get it out of his system in private, sparing them both some awkwardness. Not that he hadn't already seen the man's tears - it was astounding, really, how easily Florian cried. Ray couldn't imagine it for himself. In fact, he couldn't remember the last time he'd cried...

The knock on the door was a welcome distraction and he hurried to open it. Ray detested being maudlin.

"Thought you gentlemen might like to borrow a few things seeing as you haven't any luggage." The proprietress bustled in with a small pile of clothing and dropped it on the nearest chair. "Just some of my son's old night clothes so they're nothing fine. Still, I expect they'll be better than those dirty clothes for sleeping even if they are a mite big." She held up a large nightshirt and Ray almost laughed. A mite big was something of an understatement.

"Thank you," Ray said most sincerely. "My companion and I had some car trouble and we're both the worse for wear."

"As I expected," the woman replied, bustling over to the fireplace where she fussed with the low flames until they grew enough to ward off the evening chill. "Those gadgets are nothing but trouble, I say. Best to keep with a reliable horse." She turned back to Ray brushing her hands just as Florian entered the room, redressed in his dirty clothes, his hair damp from the bath. He was still pale, and his eyes were red-rimmed and dull.

"Looking to catch a fever, you are. Best to warm yourself here before changing. I'll be back right quick with your dinner. If you'll change,  
I can take your things and wash them so they'll dry overnight." She patted the chair and waited for Florian to sit before hurrying out the door.

"Don't get comfortable yet." Ray said as the door closed. He handed Florian one of the night shirts and a pair of drawstring breeches.  
Florian took them without comment and retreated to the bathroom to change. He returned minutes later walking awkwardly in the oversized clothing, his own soiled shirt and pants, folded neatly, in his hands.

Ray watched Florian silently for a moment, then retreated to the bedroom where he found one of the spare blankets in the chest at the foot of the bed. He shook it out, inhaling the pleasant cedar scent and carried it out to the sitting room where he urged Florian to stand and let Ray drape the blanket around him loosely.

"I'll take my bath now. If dinner arrives, don't wait." He took the other set of clothing and walked off, fully aware that Florian's mind was still back in that castle rather than here with him.

Bathing quickly, Ray was dressed and waiting when the woman returned with a young boy at her side. They were both carrying heavy trays laden with food and drink. The woman fussed, setting out the plates and simple flatware on the round table between the two armchairs. She set the dessert and bottle of brandy on the shelf behind them along with the teapot and cups.

"You are most kind, Madame." Florian gave her a grateful smile. "Thank you."

"You can thank me proper by eating while it's hot, sirs." She gathered up their soiled clothing and motioned the boy to leave the room. She gave the place a quick glance before following, adding, "Set your dishes outside when you're done so we won't disturb you. I'll bring your clothes back with your breakfast at 8am. I'll be at the desk if you're needing anything before that." With a nod of goodnight, she left, closing the door firmly behind her.

The house special turned out to be savory beef stew, with thick-cut vegetables that were firm and beef that was nicely tender. Ray finished his to the last bite having missed lunch. Florian on the other hand, spent more effort toying with his food than eating it.  
When Ray set his spoon down, Florian did too.

"You must be hungry," Ray insisted, hoping to encourage him to try a few more mouthfuls. He hadn't known the blond long, but they'd shared enough meals that Ray knew Florian wasn't a particularly picky eater.

He took up one of the small crusty loaves and broke it revealing the fluffy white center. "Try the bread at least. It's lighter on the stomach for sleeping."

Florian didn't meet his eyes, but he did break his own loaf and tear off a few pieces, which he ate without interest. His eyes remained distant and somewhat unfocused and he had none of his usual energy.

When Ray's loaf was half gone, Florian pushed his bowl towards him with a forced smile. "I'd hate to waste this. Would you...?"

Ray accepted the dish without comment and finished the stew and the rest of his bread while Florian continued eating small pieces of his own loaf without enthusiasm.

"I'm sorry," Florian whispered, unable to keep up even this small pretense at sociability. "If I could be excused?"

"In a moment," Ray countered, motioning for him to remain. Ray rose and took up the bottle of brandy and one of the mismatched glasses, pouring a measure and swirling it for a moment. Deciding it was ready, he handed it to Florian. "To help you sleep."

Florian nodded and accepted the glass, despite the fact that he didn't care for brandy. He drained it in one go and made a face as he set down the empty glass. "Thank you," he said quietly as he rose, hesitating beside Ray on the way to the bedroom. He reached out tentatively and touched Ray's arm lightly. "For everything today. Thank you." Florian lowered his head and left the room, leaving the blanket he'd been wrapped in draped across the chest at the footboard before pulling back the covers and crawling into bed, his back to Ray.

He stayed that way even when Ray finally climbed into bed beside him more than an hour later, having set out the dishes and finished half the brandy. He'd placed the chair so his back was to the bedroom, but had spent much of his time listening for sounds from the other room. Finally conceding it was a lost cause, he readied himself for bed.

Ray didn't really expect to sleep. He wasn't the soundest of sleepers at the best of times, but the day's excitement and the brandy helped and he drifted off almost as soon as he settled into the comfortable bed.

He slept so deeply that it took him several long moments to realize what had woken him.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded, grabbing a handful of Florian's hair and jerking his head up. With the other hand he pulled the borrowed breeches up to cover himself. He was still half-hard and it was awkward, but he managed without loosening his hold on the blond.

"It's why you bought me, isn't it?" Florian's face was red but Ray wasn't sure how much of it was anger, and how much was embarrassment. He loosened his grip and watched as Florian sat up, not bothering to straighten his clothing. The red hadn't faded, but now Ray could clearly see the conflicting emotions in those coveted eyes.

"Why else would you want me? You could have demanded what little of value we had left. What other use would you have for someone like me? I'm not your intellectual equal, nor social, now that I've been sold. I have no skills, no prospects, what else could you possibly want?"

"Well I certainly don't want you for a whore. Especially one who doesn't know enough to save his attentions for when I'm awake." Ray pushed himself out of the bed, setting a rapid, agitated pace as he moved back and forth, his mind working furiously to produce a logical explanation for his anything but logical reactions to Florian. "What were you thinking anyway, doing that while I was asleep?"

Equally agitated, Florian climbed out on the other side of the bed and began to pace as well. He clenched and unclenched his hands as he moved, as if fighting an internal battle. Finally he stopped and turned to Ray, his posture one of surrender. "I was practicing." He seemed to be concentrating on a point on the wall behind Ray, but he kept talking. "I've never... I mean, I've heard others talking. Some people talk too much when they've been drinking. So I've heard. details. But it's usually about a woman and man so I..." He finally looked directly at Ray. "You were sound asleep. I thought I could try a few things, so that when you wanted me to... do that... I wouldn't disappoint you and..." He broke off suddenly turning his head away. "...be sent away."

Before Ray could react, Florian continued, his body tensing, his fists clenched hard enough to make his knuckles white. "At least as your whore I have food and a place to sleep. If you sent me away... I'm not naive enough to think I'd be any better off than any of the others who have nothing to sell but themselves."

He raised his chin a little, a small act of defiance, as he lifted the hem of the large sleep shirt, exposing his chest and the still-healing lash marks. "Punish me as you see fit. But I won't apologize for being what you've made me."

Ray clenched his own fists in irritation. It was the middle of the night, dammit. He was not having this discussion now. He stomped around the bed and yanked Florian's shirt down, covering the welts.

"We'll talk about this in the morning. Now get in bed and keep your hands, and other things, to yourself." He pushed Florian down onto the mattress and tried to ignore the blond's wide-eyed confusion. Instead, he stomped out into the sitting room and finished the brandy.

::end part 1:::


	2. Chapter 2

The morning was off to a poor start by the time breakfast arrived. Ray was sore and miserable from the combination of too much brandy and too many hours in an armchair. Sleep had been a lost cause for both of them, and their nighttime argument had left awkward silence between them.

The proprietress arrived promptly, but her fussing wore on Ray's nerves and he had to bite his lip more than once to keep from snapping at her. Instead he took his clean clothes with a gruff thank you and retreated to the bathroom to dress, leaving Florian to deal with the woman.

He lingered over his morning toilette, finally emerging to find a subdued blond dressed and waiting patiently to begin his breakfast.  
He'd already poured Ray's coffee and sweetened it as Ray preferred, a small act that earned him a grateful smile.

Neither of them had much appetite for the heaping plates of eggs, fried potatoes and sausage. They finished their coffee and left the room, stopping at the desk to turn in the key and settle the account. They thanked their hostess again and left the inn just before 9am.

Ray didn't attempt conversation, keeping his focus fully on his driving. Not that it made Florian any more comfortable - Ray noticed how the blond kept a grip on the seat, only letting go when they stopped for fuel.

It was a relief for both of them when they pulled into the mansion's long drive and Ray stopped the car. They had barely descended when Laila raced out to demand where they had been. She barraged him with questions as they left the car and walked into the house.

"Doesn't matter," Ray told her, making it clear he didn't want to discuss it. Instead, he sent her off to ready his bath before turning to Florian. The blond was standing quietly, waiting, his face expressionless.

"Take a bath and get some sleep. I'll see you tonight at dinner." Ray tried not to make the words a command, but he wasn't sure he succeeded. Expression unchanged, Florian nodded and disappeared upstairs.

When he appeared in the dining room promptly at 7:00 that evening, he was as subdued as he'd been earlier. He behaved properly of course, his manners impeccable as he took a small portion of food and ate, but he made no attempt at conversation and Ray was in no mood to make the effort himself. Florian hadn't lived there long, but each of the times they'd dined like this, Florian had filled the silence with polite questions and observations. He had amused Ray more than once with unexpected wit or a canny observation.

"May I be excused?" were the first words spoken since they sat down to dine. Ray frowned at the older man's half-full plate, noting how food had been moved around to make it appear that more had been consumed. It took several seconds to fight back the absurd notion of insisting that he clear his plate. Instead Ray simply took a sip of coffee and shook his head, no.

Patiently, Florian lowered his head and waited. Time dragged as Ray, a bit spitefully he admitted to himself, lingered over his coffee. When it became clear that Florian would remain uncommunicative, he finally relented and dismissed him. Barely a minute later Laila arrived with one of the servants to clear away the dishes.

"What's wrong with him?" she wanted to know. She was predisposed to dislike the pampered little lord, if only because he'd caught Ray's attention so easily. Still, she wasn't spiteful and didn't wish the man any harm. And she did feel bad that he'd lost his home and his mother along with the family's treasure.

"He's got too much time to think. Let him mope for the rest of the day, but give him something to do tomorrow."

"Do? What would someone like him know about keeping up a household? He's probably never done a day's real work in his life."

"Then give him a broom and have him sweep the whole place. I don't care, just keep him occupied. I won't have him getting in my way or acting the part of an ill-used heroine."

"The attic's in need of a good clean," Laila commented, more to herself than to Ray. She smiled widely at the mental image of pretty,  
proper Florian covered in dust and cobwebs. "He'll need work clothes," she muttered, having no intention of explaining to Ray why the blond's expensive shirts and trousers might be covered in grime.

"Give him some of my old things then, just keep him occupied." Ray waved her away and headed into his study for a few hours of reading in peace.

He didn't see Florian until the next evening at dinner. The day had been hectic with several appointments with new clients and errands that couldn't be passed off to underlings. By dinnertime Ray was hungry but still preoccupied. He was glad for Florian's silence and barely registered how little the blond ate before spreading the food around on his plate. When Florian asked to be excused, Ray waved him off without hesitation.

It was nearly a week before things settled and by then Noir had a mission to plan. He took his dinner alone in the study while he researched in preparation for one of Noir's most spectacular missions, procuring the fire-opal encrusted bracelet, Mermaid's Envy.

It wasn't until the day after Noir's successful acquisition that he finally saw Florian.

"What's wrong with you?" Ray demanded without thinking, shocked by both the man's pallor and his thinness. He was dressed in a set of Ray's old clothes, which were too large for him, but that wasn't the only reason the old belt was fastened on the smallest hole.

"N... nothing," Florian stammered, lifting a hand to his dirt-smudged face and revealing a blister. Ray grabbed the hand and turned it over to get a better look.

"Let me see your other hand as well." He waited and when Florian didn't move fast enough he pulled the other hand up to examine it along with its companion. Both palms were red and there were several blisters.

"Laila!" Ray bellowed, his good humor fading quickly. When she approached he directed her to look at Florian's hands, ignoring Florian's protests. "Did you know about this?"

Laila shook her head, directing her annoyance at Florian. "Why didn't you say something?" Before he could answer she turned to Ray and quickly explained, "I didn't know. He's been working in the attic."

"Doing what?" Ray demanded of the both of them but interrupted before they could answer. "Never mind. You," he directed his attention to Florian. "Go upstairs. Laila will bring something to treat those." He released Florian's hands and watched as the blond turned and walked upstairs. When he was out of sight Ray turned back to Laila. "Why didn't you tell me he wasn't eating?"

"He is," she retorted, then, under his hard gaze, she amended, "just not very much." She shifted uncomfortably and met Ray's glare. "I've tried to get him to eat more, but he just thanks me and then refuses. What am I supposed to do? I couldn't tell you - you didn't need to be distracted while you were planning."

"It's alright, Laila." Ray gave her an apologetic smile. He should have expected something like this, but he'd been too caught up in other things to even see Florian, a situation the blond had obviously taken advantage of. Well, that was about to change.

"I'll handle it, Laila. Please tend those blisters and give him something to make him sleep. He can have supper in his room tonight but tell him I'll expect him at breakfast."

Laila nodded gratefully and rushed off while Ray went into his study to think.

At breakfast the next morning, Ray stirred sugar into his coffee and frowned at the clock. It was ten minutes past the hour and Florian was late. He took a cautious sip of the hot beverage and made a face - he'd over-sweetened it. Damn that blond and his constant distractions.

Thumping his coffee cup down onto the saucer, he yelled for Laila just as she breezed in, carrying a noxious-looking potion in a glass.

"Whatever that is, I'm not drinking it," he told her before she could say a word.

"It's not for you," she replied cheerfully. "Florian's not feeling well."

From the looks of the potion, it wasn't likely to make him feel better but Ray refrained from telling Laila. Instead he reached for the glass. "I'll take it to him. You can get me another coffee."

Laila frowned in confusion at Ray's nearly full coffee cup but didn't argue. She handed over the potion and went off to do as Ray had asked.

As he climbed the stairs, Ray mentally reviewed the day's tasks and decided they could all wait. It was better to straighten matters with Florian now before things got any worse.

Arriving at the correct door, Ray knocked once and entered without waiting. He frowned at the darkness and moved carefully to avoid stumbling. Setting the glass on the nightstand, he drew back the curtains and watched as Florian blinked up at him in confusion.

"You really are sick," he decided, reaching over to press a hand against Florian's sweaty forehead. Definitely feverish. Looking at his pitiful expression, Ray decided it would be cruel to insist he take Laila's potion and set it aside for later.

"Sorry about breakfast," Florian whispered, his voice rough. Ray picked up the pitcher of water from the nightstand but Florian shook his head, no, so Ray set the pitcher down and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Do you need a doctor?"

"No, it's just a cold. I'll be fine in a few hours." He didn't meet Ray's eyes as he said this, a fact that Ray couldn't help noticing.

"I think it's more than a cold. Unless you always starve yourself like this when you have the sniffles." It was intended to provoke and Ray was disappointed when Florian didn't respond with more than an apology.

"You know this calls for drastic measures." Ray reached into his pocket and extracted a small, thick book. Opening it to the marker, he motioned for Florian to move over, kicked off his shoes, and settled back against the headboard preparing to read.

After ten mind-numbing minutes of French law Florian moaned and turned onto his side. He shifted a few times but finally fell asleep. Ray watched him for a moment, smiling in triumph. He lingered a few more minutes, watching the older man sleep, thankful that the blankets concealed this too-thin frame. That was a battle for later. For now though... just as he was sliding carefully off the bed, Florian gasped and sat up wide-eyed with fear.

Settling on the bed again, Ray pulled Florian into his arms and murmured soothingly. Now it was impossible to ignore the man's unhealthy weight loss. Setting aside his awkwardness, Ray lay back on the bed and gently drew Florian down, letting him rest his head on Ray's shoulder. Neither of them said anything, but Ray could still feel Florian's rapid breathing.

Without thinking, Ray drew soothing patterns on the thin back and was relieved to feel Florian relax. It took a long time for him to fall asleep, and by then Ray was feeling the effects of his long, late nights preparing for Noir's mission. Giving in, he let himself fade into sleep.

::end part 2::


	3. Chapter 3

WARNING: this chapter contains disturbing descriptions 

"Mother!" Florian struggled against the hands that held him; faceless, bodiless, grasping talons that tore his flesh. They were pitiless,  
unmoved by his tears and desperate cries as they made him watch his mother burn. Her eyes were open and she was screaming, but the only sounds were the sizzle of her burning flesh and the laughter of his aunt and uncle as they watched.

Florian fought harder, crazed, but the hands held him fast as the flames continued their work and the ground began to shake. They were in the ballroom of the Rochefort mansion, a once beautiful room now twisted and charred almost beyond recognition, only the chandelier left intact. As the shaking intensified, the chandelier began to swing, hundreds of crystals catching and reflecting the macabre tableau across every surface.

Florian felt his blood running freely where the claw-like hands pierced him, but the pain was insignificant compared to what his mother was suffering. He almost welcomed it as his small act of penance for leaving her alone to be betrayed by her own brother.

The laughter stopped abruptly as Maurice and his wife clutched at their throats, a sickening green mist rising up to envelop them. They coughed and gagged, faces turning red as they writhed even as Florian's mother continued to burn.

His aunt fell first, dragging her husband down, still choking, faces gone purple as they struggled for air. With a sound like thunder, the chandelier snapped apart, pieces of crystal raining down like arrows, piercing tile and flesh.

One piece plunged into Uncle Maurice's chest, spraying red upwards like a fountain, bathing, the now motionless bodies on the floor and spattering out towards the flame where each droplet hissed away as red-tinged steam.

Florian surged forward with all his might, his flesh tearing away as he moved. He didn't care. He plunged his skeletal arms into the fire,  
just as the last of the crystals plunged downwards through his mother's body, shattering it.

Florian grasped at the shattered pieces, feeling them turn to ash in his hands. The floor beneath him gave a deafening crack and split apart, revealing an endless pit of flame that reached up just as the chandelier frame over his head plunged downward...

"Florian!" The hands were clawing at him again and he struggled wildly, lashing out, barely aware that he was gasping for air. "Stop it, dammit!" A line of pain burned across Florian's left cheek and jaw and the flames disappeared. He was pressed backwards and there was a weight on his chest. Blinking, his vision slowly cleared.

"Ray?" His throat was so sore he could barely speak.

"You awake now?" Ray asked roughly, shifting before lifting himself off of Florian. He sat back and scowled at the blond. "You were gasping for air."

"I was... dreaming," Florian offered quietly, his heart still hammering in his chest and his mind still full of the images he'd dreamed.  
Without warning, his stomach clenched painfully. He barely had time to roll to the side before he was violently ill.

"Dammit!" Ray swore again and Florian could feel the bed shift as Ray stood up. "Laila, get up here!"

There was very little in his stomach and the bile burned Florian's throat as he continued to heave. He felt himself crying and shaking,  
but he had no more control over that than he had of his stomach. I'm so pathetic, he told himself, despairing. Surely Ray will send me away now.

That thought was the last thing he remembered for a long time.

"He fainted!" Ray bellowed at Laila as she raced into the room, vials and bottles rattling on her tray as she moved. She could smell the sickness from the hall, but she hadn't expected to see Ray on the bed, an unconscious Florian clutched in his arms. "Don't bother with those, call a doctor."

Laila couldn't remember ever seeing or hearing Ray so panicked before. She set the tray down on the first available surface and raced off to make the call.

"He'll be here in fifteen minutes," she reported when she returned barely two minutes later. She'd brought along several of the staff with buckets and rags to clean up.

"Get a clean set of Florian's nightclothes and bring them to my room. We'll need to get him cleaned up and changed before the doctor arrives." Without waiting for her response, Ray stood with Florian in his arms and carried him downstairs to his own bedroom.

Ray was still struggling to get Florian undressed when Laila arrived. Together they managed to strip the blond down to his undergarments. Ray wiped Florian down with a warm, damp cloth and dried him before Laila helped him dress the still unconscious man. They had barely finished when the doctor arrived. Laila went downstairs to escort the elderly gentleman while Ray hurried to straighten his room and secure a few personal items.

"What seems to be bothering our young man?" the doctor asked as soon as the barest pleasantries were exchanged. He'd tended a few people in Ray's household before and Ray appreciated the man's forthright manner. He explained briefly about Florian's lack of appetite, his fever and the apparent nightmare that had preceded his fainting spell.

"I read about the fire, of course, and poor Madame Rochefort. It was fortunate that the lad wasn't at the mansion or he'd have died too"  
As the doctor spoke, he was busy examining Florian, checking pulse and listening to his heart. "I didn't know the family myself, but I've heard about them. He's a sensitive one, from what I understand. Close to his mother. I imagine those rumors that he was responsible for her death upset him quite severely. Hasn't been eating much, has he?"

Ray confirmed this as the doctor continued his examination of Florian's reflexes. When he finished that, he dug into his bag,  
pulling out several bottles.

"It appears to be exhaustion and a fever, most likely brought on by his mental state. He's weak because he hasn't been eating, and that's made the fever worse and brought on his stomach trouble." The doctor handed Ray the largest of three bottles. "Give him this for the fever. It may make him sleepy, but that's fine, let him sleep as much as he needs to until the fever is gone. He's to have it three times a day with meals, which he must eat. Not just broth mind you, he's got to have solid food, and plenty of it, but start slow with soup. Tempt him with sweets if he likes those kinds of things, but get him eating, and not in bed either. He should move around and have fresh air each day, but you'll have to start slow with that as well. Get him walking to build up his strength, but don't let him overexert himself or it will slow down his recovery."

The doctor handed Ray two small bottles. "These are to be used only as needed. The brown bottle contains a stomach medicine and the clear one contains medicine to help him sleep through the night if he's still having nightmares."

"Thank you." Ray accepted the bottles, his expression making it clear that he would follow the doctor's instructions carefully. He glanced at Laila who had been listening and watching and she nodded her understanding of the instructions.

"Very good. Shall we wake our young gentleman so he can have some dinner?" The doctor checked his pocket watch. "Try to get him outside for a few minutes today, perhaps a brief walk in the garden? Increase his time outside each day, just as you try to increase the amount of food he eats. It's important he not be left alone too much. His mental state will determine how quickly he recovers, or if he recovers."

"I understand," Ray assured him. "I'll hire a nanny if I have to." It was a joke but the doctor shook his head firmly.

"The young man has suffered a traumatic loss. I've seen my share of men like this, some of whom never recovered. He's not a child and if you treat him like one, you'll only make him worse."

Ray sobered and nodded. "I understand. I assure you he will be taken care of."

"Very well then. I'll stop in to see him in a week. If you need me before that, just call." The doctor packed his bag with the ease of much practice, leaving out only a small vial. He removed the stopper and waved it under Florian's nose twice. He waited until the blond's eyelids fluttered before closing the vial and putting it away. "I'll leave you to look after him then." He bowed. "Lord Courland."

Ray returned the bow but let Laila take care of the payment and escorting the man out, choosing to remain with Florian.

::end part 3::


	4. Chapter 4

::Disclaimer: Gorgeous Carat belongs to You Higuri.:: 

"Nnnnn," Florian mumbled as he shifted under the bedcovers, his eyelids fluttering and finally opening. He blinked slowly and turned his head, still not fully awake.

Ray sat on the edge of the bed and lightly smoothed unruly hair away from Florian's forehead. "Hi."

"Hmm?" Florian blink at him, then smiled. "Hi."

"Want some water?" Ray picked up the crystal pitcher from his nightstand and half-filled a small water glass. He held it while Florian sat up, still disoriented, but slowly gaining awareness. "Not too fast," Ray cautioned when Florian all but drained the glass in one long swallow.

"Thank you." Florian returned the glass with a shy smile. He scanned his surroundings and looked at Ray in confusion. "Where am I?"

"My room. My doctor paid you a visit and this room is more convenient for him." Ray glossed over the details, leaving Florian to remember what he could of the last few hours, and sparing him the rest.

"Oh." Florian blushed lightly and looked down, gripping the thick comforter. "I'm sorry for inconveniencing you. I'll go." He started to push the bedding aside but Ray stopped him.

"You have to tell me when you're ill." Ray's voice was almost cold, but there was a tremor underneath that made Florian look at him curiously. "The doctor left strict orders for you and I'm going to make sure that you follow them to the letter. Is that clear?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize! Just make sure it never happens again." Ray stomped over to his wardrobe and pulled out a heavy dressing gown. He tossed it down onto the bed. "Wear that until I get you one of your own; the one you have now isn't warm enough."

Florian stroked the rich material appreciatively before sliding out of bed and picking it up. It was too long, nearly brushing the floor, and it practically wrapped around him twice, but it was warm and very comfortable.

"Thank you," he told Ray sincerely. "I'm sorry to be so much trouble." His expression made it clear that he remembered most if not all that had happened a few hours earlier.

Ray wasn't sure if Florian was blushing again or if the fever was getting worse. He pressed the back of his hand to Florian's forehead and frowned. "The doctor said you needed some fresh air and food. We'll take a walk through the garden and by the time we get back inside, Laila will have the table ready."

"I'm not really hungry..."

"The doctor said you needed to eat. Do you plan on contradicting him?"

Ray's expression made it clear how he'd react to any disobedience so Florian shook his head and looked down at his feet.

"I need my shoes."

"Jameson will get them. Now get yourself ready and meet me downstairs in the back hall. I need to talk to Laila."

Florian nodded and retreated to Ray's bathroom to freshen up. By the time he reached the correct door, Ray was waiting, as were Florian's shoes.

"Ten minutes," Ray called to Laila before he ushered Florian outside.

It was late afternoon and sunny with a pleasant breeze. Florian turned his face into the wind and breathed deeply, the fresh air making him feel less groggy and unwell.

They strolled one of the garden paths at a speed that would normally make Ray impatient, but he kept the pace easy, seemingly content to look at the flowers and ornamental bushes. There were several statues placed throughout the moderately-sized flower garden, and a few more scattered around the lawn and near large shade trees. He led Florian to the closest one, pointing out the pair of benches almost hidden in the shadows.

"I don't get out here as often as I should," he commented in a way that made Florian wonder if it was directed to him or if Ray was talking to himself. Rather than guess, he simply murmured an agreement and studied his surroundings.

It wasn't the largest of yards but the row of trees along the property line gave it a sense of calm and privacy, reminiscent of the gardens on his family's estate. Florian turned to look back at the flowerbeds, noting how different and unrestrained they seemed compared to his mother's carefully planned and controlled gardens. A true reflection of their owners, he mused.

"I'm not a gardener," Ray muttered, thinking Florian was laughing at him.

"It's lovely, nonetheless," Florian assured him. "I hadn't really looked at these gardens before now. They are quite nice." He couldn't resist adding, "I'll be sure to compliment Laila."

"Laila! That woman couldn't tell a daisy from a rose." Ray pouted. "All the money I spend on a gardener."

"You do not. I heard you telling Jameson to handle it."

"Are you volunteering?" Ray hid a grin as he pictured a sweaty, dirt-streaked Florian kneeling in the flowerbed.

"You like weeds that much, do you?" Florian countered lightly, disrupting Ray's imaginings. They were facing each other now, smiling slightly as they bickered.

"Don't tell me you don't dabble in roses like a proper little lord."

"For your information, I wasn't allowed near mother's precious roses. Not since I was six and clipped off the biggest blooms to make a crown for the housekeeper's cat." Florian colored a little at the memory, but he was smiling softly.

Ray laughed and shook his head. It was exactly the kind of thing he could imagine Florian doing. "Well, the only cats around here are strays - which I know you've been feeding by the way. I don't think any of them need crowns."

"Perhaps not," Florian agreed, following Ray as the younger man started back towards the mansion. "But they could use more food..."

Ray groaned and shook his head, wondering how long it would be before he was feeding all the stray cats in Paris.

:::end part 4:::


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm so sorry," Florian apologized as he yawned again. He'd managed to eat half of his soup and a few crackers, but the medicine he'd taken with the meal was making him very sleepy. 

"Come with me." Ray pushed aside his half-finished plate and held out his hand to Florian. The blond took it gratefully, fighting back another yawn. They navigated the flight of stairs to the second floor with Florian having to hold the hem of the dressing gown up to avoid stumbling. Rather than turning left towards the staircase leading to Florian's room, Ray steered him right and down the hall into the suite next to his own bedroom.

"It will be easier having you nearby," he explained before Florian could protest. He'd had the room prepared while he and Florian were outside and then at dinner. The covers were turned down and there was a low fire that could be built up easily to stave off the evening chill.

"There's a connecting door. It doesn't have a lock, but I expect either of us to knock before using it, of course." Florian nodded, his eyes drooping as he fought to stay alert. "You can move things around as you want, later, or we'll redecorate if you'd like. But now," Ray reached for the tie on Florian's borrowed dressing gown and quickly unfastened it. Setting the garment aside, he gently pushed Florian towards the bed. "Sleep as long as you need. I'll see you in the morning."

Florian settled into bed, smiling his thanks even as his eyes closed.

Ray lingered, perhaps a bit longer than necessary, to be sure his troublesome charge was asleep before he went downstairs to try and get some work done. He had a feeling that it would be a long night.

XXXXX

Sometimes he hated being right. Ray pulled the sobbing blond into a tight embrace and fought back his fatigue. For the third time that night he'd been woken from sleep by the sounds - heartrending sobs that made Ray's own eyes fill with tears.

He was reluctant to use the sleeping draught the doctor had left while Florian still had a fever so he did the best thing he could think of and slid under the covers, wrapping them both in a cocoon while holding and soothing the distraught man.

Finally, Florian settled and then fell asleep but it was nearly three-quarters of an hour later that Ray joined him in sleep. Fortunately for both of them, they didn't wake again until well after dawn.

XXXXX

Ray didn't see Florian until the evening meal, but it was clear that he was feeling better. Florian still didn't finish his meal, but he ate willingly and didn't spend time moving the food around on his plate. By the end of the meal, however, he was obviously tiring and he retired to his new room as soon as Ray excused him.

"How was he?" Ray asked Laila when she came to join him for coffee after his meal.

"Quiet," was her thoughtful reply. She pondered a moment, then added, "he was outside for almost an hour before lunch. And he went out again before dinner to feed the cats."

Ray shook his head in surrender, knowing he'd already lost that particular battle. At least it was cats and not dogs or stray children. Florian was likely to attract all of those.

"He had a nightmare this afternoon." Laila sounded as if she were reluctant to admit this. "Not enough to make him sick, but┘" She shook her head regretfully. She'd had a few nightmares of her own right after Ray rescued her and all these years later she still remembered them.

"Have you been to the attic to see what he's been doing up there?"

"Not yet."

"Leave it, then." Ray told her with a smile. "I'll take care of it, Laila."

She nodded, knowing it was true. He always did.

Ray stood motionless at Florian's bedside, watching the man move restlessly in his sleep. From the look of things, they were in for another long night. Making a decision, Ray threw off his robe and slid under the comforter, fitting himself into the space between the blond and the edge of the bed. Almost before he'd settled, Florian had shifted so he was pressing against Ray, his head resting against Ray's shoulder.

Ray sighed, wondering if it was going to be a long night for an entirely different reason.

He discovered the answer seven hours later when he woke, refreshed, with Florian sleeping peacefully in his arms.

Reluctantly, Ray eased away from Florian and climbed out of bed, covering the sleeping man carefully before taking up his robe and moving quietly out of the room.

He washed, dressed and checked on Florian, who was still asleep, before going downstairs to breakfast and a full day of meetings and paperwork. Skipping lunch, he worked through until four when he finally sealed the last letter.

Wandering out to the kitchen, he greeted Laila and the cook as he scrounged a snack to hold him until dinner. Still eating, he followed Laila's direction to the attic where he found Florian asleep in an old armchair near a window, an old book held loosely in his hand.

Taking a moment to look around, Ray was surprised to see how clean and orderly the attic was. Obviously Florian had been busy, as the only other time Ray had been up here, it had been a dirty jumbled mess.

He'd acquired the house and all its contents from an aristocratic family fallen on hard times. He hadn't actually planned on a house this large, but it had been too good an opportunity to pass up.

He'd never really thought about the items left behind, particularly those in the attic, but now that they were clean and grouped, they showed much more promise.

He glanced towards the far end of the room noting that there was a whole section that hadn't been touched. He also saw the rough handled broom, battered pail and cleaning rags that stood waiting. He made a mental note to send some of the men up here to give the rest of the place a cleaning and to move the furniture. He'd let Florian finish the detail work after they were done and then compile an inventory. It would give him something to do that wasn't too strenuous for while he was recovering.

Speaking of recovering - the doctor said that Florian was to sleep as much as he needed, but it seemed like that was all he had done for the last two days. Ray moved closer and gently checked Florian's forehead, relieved that there was no fever.

"Oh." Florian blinked up at Ray in confusion. "I'm sorry, I seem to have nodded off." He ran a hand over his face and laughed uneasily. He still seemed tired and worn down, as if he barely had the energy to move.

"You've been working hard," Ray replied, motioning at the orderly surroundings. "Thank you."

"I haven't finished." Florian stood, wavering a little but steadying himself by gripping the chair. He gave Ray an apologetic smile. "I think that medicine is too strong."

"You won't have to take it tomorrow if you make it through the night without a fever. Why don't we take a walk in the garden and have an early supper so you can go to bed earlier tonight?"

Florian agreed, waiting for Ray to move so he could follow him downstairs. Reaching the ground floor, Ray turned right unexpectedly and diverted to the kitchen. Ignoring Florian's confusion he had a quiet word with the cook, waiting as she tossed a few scraps into an old pan.

Thanking her, he gave the pan to Florian and continued out into the garden. Once there, he waited with an extraordinary amount of patience while Florian fed the half-dozen stray cats. Ray even offered a large calico a few bites, although he did grumble about it.

::tbc::


	6. Chapter 6

Florian's happy chatter carried them through most of dinner, but he lost energy quickly and by the end he was yawning and struggling to focus. Ray waved off his apologies and sent him upstairs to prepare for bed while Ray lingered over his coffee and dessert. 

"He looks better," Laila commented as she dropped into Florian's seat and started eating his untouched dessert. "Pity to waste this."

Laila usually ate in the kitchen with the staff, catching up on rumors and gossip. If there was anything particularly interesting, she'd share it when she came to clear away Ray's dishes. She was grateful for Florian's presence if only because Ray now had a dinner companion - and a reason to leave his study at mealtimes.

Tonight was one of the rare occasions that Laila didn't repeat the staff's latest gossip. She didn't really want to think about the good-natured jokes and speculation that had held everyone's interest at dinner. She'd been half-tempted to change the subject, but hadn't quite been able to, her mind too busy picturing Ray's untouched bed, and the very rumpled bed in the adjacent suite. Besides, gossip was impossible to stop, especially among that lot; better to let them get it out of their systems. Nothing held their interest for long. And anyway, Florian was better and would be moving back upstairs soon so it was silly to fret.

"Can you spare two of the men tomorrow?" Ray asked abruptly, he was only half paying attention when Laila asked why, his mind clearly miles ahead as he planned some as yet unknown project. "I'd like the rest of the attic cleaned and furniture moved so Florian can do an inventory. Some of the pieces should bring a decent price."

Laila bit back a retort that cleaning the attic was Florian's job. She nodded and made a note to herself to check up on the blond's work so far to see if he'd really been working or had been slacking off.

"Florian's room has been cleaned up and the bedding freshened. Shall I have the suite he's using closed up tomorrow?" She hoped she didn't sound too eager, and lowered her head, pretending to be interested in scraping the last of the custard from the dish so her expression didn't give her away. When Ray didn't agree immediately, she knew she wasn't going to like what she heard next.

"That won't be necessary. I'd like Florian's belongings moved to the suite. I'm thinking of having him do some letter writing and other secretarial chores so it will be more convenient if he's close."

Laila looked up at Ray, wondering if he really believed what he'd just said. She'd known him long enough to know every inflection in his voice and every nuance in his facial expressions. Still, it was a shock to hear and see him like this. Just a few weeks ago he told her he wanted to possess a pair of amethysts unlike any others in the world. At the time, she'd passed it off as other one of Noir's obsessions.  
But now...

Now she wondered if it wasn't Ray that had been possessed. Could she really be losing him to a spoiled little aristocrat?

Not if she had anything to say about it. She rattled the china and silver as she stood abruptly, gathering the dishes without much care.  
She caught Ray watching her, still with that half-distracted air and she wondered, even as her heart beat painfully in her chest, could something that made Ray smile like that really be so bad?

Any answer she gave herself would hurt, so she shoved the question away, made her excuses to Ray and fled to the kitchen.

XXXXX

There was really no reason to check on Florian. He was close and the door adjoining the suites was open so Ray would hear if he was in distress during the night. That determination lasted as long as it took Ray to prepare for bed. Once he'd changed into his night clothes and had extinguished the lamps he found himself moving carefully through his rooms into the adjoining suite. With Noir's usual skill,  
he navigated using only the starlight filtering in through the partly opened drapes.

It was enough light to allow him to study his troublesome charge and to see that his restlessness had already left the bedding rumpled. As Ray watched, Florian shifted, his hands clasping the edge of the comforter as if in distress.

Without hesitation, Ray eased Florian over and slid into bed beside him. He pulled the blond into his arms and pressed his lips against Florian's forehead, noting that he was a bit warm, but not dangerously feverish. He also noted how easily he could feel the smaller man's bones, as though he were only a skeleton with skin. Ray had known it would take more than a few meals to bring Florian back to healthy form, but holding him like this, he couldn't help but be concerned.

With a contented sigh, Florian settled against Ray and continued to sleep. His steady breathing helped calm Ray but he wasn't quite ready to sleep himself. Ray's mind was too full to settle. Part of him was happy that he had exactly what he'd wanted when he first laid eyes on Florian, but another part fought against the thought of letting anyone, especially someone he'd only known a short time, become an intimate companion - or more.

He'd been truthful when he told Florian he didn't buy him to be a whore, yet sometimes it was all Ray could do to keep his hands off the man. Yes, he was attractive. Yes, Ray wanted him. But Ray didn't want Florian to submit because of some feeling of obligation or coercion. Ray wanted Florian to want him. Couldn't it just be that easy?

Ray drew the covers a bit tighter around Florian's thin body and tried to sleep, if only to avoid answering his own question.

XXXXX

It wasn't a daily routine, but occasionally Laila would pay an early morning visit to Ray's rooms - whether to bring him breakfast if he'd been up late, or to remind him of an important piece of business, or more rarely, to wake him after a night of drinking or other indulgence. She stood outside his bedroom door now, complete with a manufactured excuse and a feeling of dreadful anticipation.

When he didn't respond to her light tapping on his door, she opened it cautiously and walked in. It wasn't actually a surprise to find the bed untouched. Against all the better judgment she possessed, she tiptoed through the rooms towards the other suite. Stopping just before the doorway, she leaned around slowly, her eyes adjusted enough to the dimly lit room to immediately identify the two disparate forms on the bed, as well as their position in relation to each other. Recklessly bold, she took a step closer and saw how Ray held Florian while Florian's hand rested so carelessly on Ray's abdomen. Their faces were serene and almost too beautiful and Laila was surprised to feel moisture when she blinked.

Turning away, she retraced her path, closing Ray's door softly before she turned, not downstairs where she might encounter staff, but up towards the attic. She'd wanted to check on Florian's work and this was the perfect time. If she happened to linger there a while it was only because she was tsking over missed cobwebs and undusted corners. And if she arrived downstairs nearly an hour later with slightly reddened eyes, it was obviously the fault of dust left behind by Florian's unfinished attempts at cleaning.

::end part 6:::


	7. Chapter 7

Florian woke with a gasp, heart racing as he scanned the room frantically. He was alone. Turning onto his side, he closed his eyes and wished for oblivion to chase away the nightmares that still haunted him. 

"I can't do this," he whispered into the silence. The sheets around him were sweat-soaked and clammy and he felt like they were constricting him. With effort, he shoved them aside, then shivered in the sudden chill. He felt disconnected and vaguely unwell but he sent a firm command to his stomach and sat up.

A glance at the bedside clock told him it was later than he usually slept. That explained Ray's absence, and made him feel a bit better, if still a bit guilty for staying in bed so long.

He was just as happy to have missed breakfast and soothed his conscience by deciding to finish cleaning the attic. Washing quickly and putting on work clothes he hurried downstairs to find Laila and ask for more cleaning rags.

"There you are," Laila greeted him. "Finally joined us?"

"Yes. I'm sorry to have overslept. I was hoping you'd have some more cleaning rags I could use?"

"In the broom closet. Help yourself." She waved in the direction of the small room where the broom, mops and other supplies were kept. "Finally going to finish the attic? Ray wants that furniture moved and cleaned today before you inventory it. He's thinking of selling some of it." She carefully left out the fact that Ray had wanted someone else to do the actual moving.

"I'd better get the rags then. It'll be a full day's work. I'm getting a late start." He was so busy mentally reviewing what was left to be done that he paid her the barest courtesies as he hurried off.

Laila felt a twinge of guilt for misleading him but soothed her conscience by deciding to deliver his lunch to the attic.

xxxxxxxxxx

It was after nine when Ray returned home that evening after a day of appointments and errands and a visit to his club. He waved off Laila's offer of supper and disappeared into the study with a mission clearly in mind.

It was only then that Laila realized she hadn't seen Florian since she'd taken him his lunch at noon. With a sense of unease, she hurried upstairs, telling herself that he'd simply fallen asleep.

It wasn't much of a surprise to discover that she was wrong. She looked around, amazed at the change in the attic. The rest of the furniture had been moved and some of it shone softly in the lamplight, the wood freshly cleaned and polished.

She frowned at Florian's untouched lunch tray and at the man himself. He was dirt-smudged and disheveled although it didn't fully conceal his pallor or the sharp lines of exhaustion on his face. Ray was not going to be happy about this, or her "memory lapse" in neglecting to send anyone to help.

"Laila?" Florian's voice was rough from dust and fatigue.

"It's late. I thought you might want supper. Ray's back and he's in his study."

"How thoughtful of you to offer, but I'm not hungry." He looked around at the items still waiting to be cleaned and inventoried. "I was hoping to finish, but I suppose it will have to wait until tomorrow." He brushed ineffectually at a streak of dirt on his sleeve. "I'd better get cleaned up."

"You should eat something," Laila replied, picking up the untouched tray. "The doctor said┘"

"It's kind of you to be concerned," Florian interrupted smoothly with a gentle smile turning away to indicate the end of any discussion. He straightened a few items unnecessarily then moved around the room extinguishing all but one of the lamps. He picked that one up and turned, waiting for Laila to precede him down the stairs.

Quite certain that any further discussion of Florian's health would be met with his polite but stubborn refusals, she acceded to his wish and remained silent. They traveled to the second floor together where Florian bid her good night and turned towards his suite.

She descended to the first floor and made her way to the kitchen with the untouched tray. Once it was cleared and cleaned, she left a note for the cook requesting some of last year's strawberry preserves for Florian's breakfast, something she knew he'd like.

Sighing heavily, she made her way to the study and stood, indecisive. After several long moments, she heard the sound of soft snoring from beyond the door. Just as well, she told herself. She didn't need to bother Ray with this. Florian would eat tomorrow so there was no sense causing needless worry.

Happy to have the matter settled, Laila headed off to bed. Mornings came early in Ray's house and it wouldn't do to spend the day fuzzy from lack of rest.  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

At 2:19 a.m., Florian made a decision on something he'd been considering for several days. Still trembling from another round of nightmares, he clutched the edge of the sink and stared at his reflection, trying to build his courage to follow through on that decision. The letter rested beside his hand, slightly bent from his desperate grip. He didn't have to look at it to feel as if it were taunting him.

It was such a simple thing. Only one of the literally hundreds of invitations his mother had written in her lifetime. Was it such a surprise that one of them should end up here, forgotten, in the mending basket of the mansion's former owner - the Countess Laurent?

He'd been sorting the last of the furniture in the attic when he'd opened a small chest and discovered a jumble of small items including a mending basket much like the one his mother had used. It had been her habit to store unanswered correspondence as well as other small items that were part of her daily tasks. Apparently the Countess Laurent had the same habit.

Seeing his mother's familiar handwriting on the envelope had been shocking enough - but the contents were far more disturbing. It was an invitation to a party in memory of his father and, written in his mother's fine, neat hand was a personal note to the countess which ended: The child's been sent away. At last it's over.

Like a man obsessed, Florian had explored every item, searching for more - letters, invitations, anything. Surely it took him hours, but he had no sense of the time until Laila arrived to tell him Ray was home.

He'd made the least effort at washing and had fallen into bed, exhausted and defeated with nothing more to show for his searching. He wished more than anything, that he'd never set eyes on that damned invitation.

He loved his mother, nothing would change that. But memories plagued him - of being rebuffed, of being hit or even sent away for extended visits to obscure relatives and friends. Florian had precious few memories of his father as anything other than a little-seen presence. Could she really have been relieved when he died?

Florian had learned very early to amuse himself quietly and to do as his mother commanded without question. He'd had few friends growing up and there had rarely been money for tutors, certainly none for expensive boarding schools. She'd overseen much of his instruction and had been quite demanding in etiquette and social graces, but hadn't put much effort into anything she deemed unimportant for a young aristocrat.

Alone, in the dark of Ray's mansion, Florian's nightmares replayed those last moments with his mother - the moment when she trembled as Ray demanded she choose between her son and the Rochefort family's treasure. The moment when he sold himself to a man he barely knew. Had she truly loved him less than she loved an unfeeling stone? Did it matter now that she was dead?

Giving himself one last look in the mirror, Florian gathered his resolve. Taking up his lamp, he walked through the suite and out into the hall. It seemed to take no time at all for him to reach the door to Ray's study. He could hear Ray's soft snores beyond and didn't bother to knock before entering.

"What?" Ray demanded, coming instantly awake, if not completely alert.

"I didn't mean to wake you," Florian responded automatically even if it wasn't quite true. He set the lamp down and moved to Ray's side. The younger man was standing, frowning at Florian - either for waking him or because he was out of bed in the middle of the night.

"If you've come to nag me about my sleeping habits..." Ray was cranky for having woken so abruptly.

"I haven't." Florian was proud that his voice remained steady even as fought the urge to run away and pretend he'd never come here in the middle of the night.

"Well then what are you wandering around for? You need you your sleep."

"Yes, I do. But I'm not getting any." Something in his tone of voice, or perhaps facial expression revealed what Florian had not said.

"Nightmares?"

"Yes, but not all of them from sleeping." Florian swallowed hard and gathered all of his resolve. He moved forward until they were barely a hand's span apart. "Why did you buy me? If you'd really wanted the Rochefort treasure, you could have forced mother to sell it. You know how little we had left."

"Don't tell me this is why you woke me up." Ray reached for Florian, placing a hand gently against his forehead. "You're warm. You should be in bed."

"Your bed?" Florian moved closer to Ray, staring intently.

"I told you I don't want a whore."

"But do you want me?" Florian already knew the answer. He could never compare to Ray in book knowledge, but he usually excelled at reading people. That surety gave him courage.

"What are you talking about? You're not feverish enough to be delirious."

"I'm perfectly rational and I'm asking if you care for me enough to share a bed, permanently." Florian pulled back a little, watching the emotions play across Ray's face. Even in the dim light he could see the curiosity and calculation give way to desire and perhaps even hope.

"I'm not asking you to be my spouse, not that you could be anyway. You're still the master. I won't ask that you be... faithful if you want to call it that. I won't even object to being whipped if I truly deserve it. In return, I want you to care for me as a person, not one of your jewels. And if you should one day decide you might feel something more for me, I want you to show it in your actions as much as with your words."

Florian stepped back, his heart still hammering in his chest, waiting to see if he'd spend the rest of the night in Ray's bed or in the cellar. When Ray pressed forward it was all he could do to stand firm.

"This is your one chance to pretend we never had this conversation. Once you're in my bed, you can't change your mind." As if testing Florian's certainty, Ray gripped Florian's shoulder and pulled him into a deep, demanding kiss. When he finally pulled back, he was breathing almost as heavily as Florian.

"I'm not going to treat you like a princess."

"I wouldn't stand it if you did." Florian kissed Ray back, just as hard and demanding as Ray had been. He felt a bit like he was going mad, but mainly he felt free, as if he had been suffocating and suddenly he could breathe.

What he was proposing went against everything his mother taught him. It went against everything society deemed acceptable. And yet, those weeks in Ray's home, those hours in his arms, they were beyond anything Florian had ever expected, or even hoped for in the future he'd dreaded as a fallen noble clinging blindly to obsolete ways and meaningless family pride.

So society and his mother be damned. He wanted someone to love him and if he couldn't have it, he'd take the closest available thing.

With a smile he held out his hand to Ray. "It's time for bed."

::end part 7::


	8. Chapter 8

"Wait." Ray stopped just inside the door to his suite, halting Florian's over-eager pace. 

Florian's facade cracked a little then, and his determined expression was now tinged with uncertainty. He tensed, as if anticipating the whip; the marks from the last time had only just faded from his body.

With the door closed and the lamp safely on a table, Ray pulled Florian close and cupped his face, his right thumb caressing the soft skin just to the side of Florian's mouth. It had the desired effect and Florian smiled in spite of himself.

"If you want this, you know what's involved, and why we have to proceed carefully." Ray leaned in and kissed Florian lightly, before pulling back and adding, "You realize we could go to jail, or worse."

"I know." Florian's response was firm and resolute. He understood the dangers of what they were considering, and he accepted the risks. "We'll have to be discrete." The corners of this mouth turned up again. "I believe you have some experience in being discrete?"

"A small amount. Now, change into your nightclothes and get into bed. It's too late for adventures tonight." Ray moved to the bedside to light the lamp there, then turned off the one they'd brought upstairs. When he turned back towards the bed he was surprised to see Florian standing, waiting for him, completely nude. The blond was blushing and he didn't seem to know what to do with his hands, but he met Ray's eyes with determination.

"That's not necessary."

"I know."

"In bed, then, before you have a relapse and I have to answer to the doctor for not taking care of you."

Florian seemed rather grateful to slide beneath the luxurious bed clothes. Spread out like that, his ivory skin against the fine linen,  
Ray was sure he wouldn't sleep at all.

With a sigh something like a surrender, Ray slipped out of his own clothing and eased into his usual side of the bed. He'd rarely allowed himself to sleep nude since Florian had arrived so it was a decadent pleasure to feel the fine cloth against his bare skin.

"Ray... may I kiss you?" Florian's voice was soft but steady, although Ray could hear the uncertainty in it. He turned towards the older man, wondering if he'd ever be able to deny him anything.

"Just one, then sleep. I'm tired."

"Of course. I'm sorry for keeping you from your rest." Florian leaned in and pressed his lips against Ray's. It was a clumsy kiss with little passion, but Ray didn't mind. In fact, it took all his will to resist pulling Florian back to return the gesture.

"Good night," Florian whispered both as a greeting and a thank you. He settled in at Ray's side, his skin warm against Ray's.

This promised all kinds of awkwardness, Ray was sure of it, but he didn't have it in him to turn his back to the other man. Instead, Ray wrapped his arm around Florian and held him close. He'd deal with all of this tomorrow.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was just past 8 a.m. and Ray was late for breakfast. He hurried into the dining room in a foul mood and snarled at the plate that held his usual breakfast.

"Take this away and bring me fresh coffee."

Laila hurried to comply, frowning at his behavior. He was rarely so curt with her. What had Florian done now? Ray hadn't been so temperamental before that spoiled little aristocrat arrived.

"Good morning, Laila."

"Oh, Florian!" Laila stopped short, confronted by the very person she was angry with. Gone were her intentions to apologize for not sending someone to help him clean the attic. "Here, take this to the kitchen and tell them Ray wants fresh coffee." She shoved the plate at him and hurried away before he could respond.

Puzzled by her abrupt behavior, Florian went to do as she had requested and returned to the dining room with Ray's coffee and his own breakfast plate just a few minutes later.

"Where's Laila?" Ray demanded as Florian placed the coffee down carefully in front of Ray. Florian hesitated a moment, then leaned in and placed a light kiss on Ray's cheek.

"Don't do that here." Ray snatched up his paper so he didn't have to look at the source of his misery. He'd slept well enough despite his own predictions, but he'd been quite irritated when he'd made it through most of his morning toilette and his body was still reacting to the memory of Florian in his bed.

"You wouldn't be so grouchy if you hadn't worked so hard pretending I wasn't in your bed this morning. I could have helped you wake up much more pleasantly."

Ray glowered at Florian, uncertain how to deal with this sudden transformation from naive little aristocrat to wanton.

"I'm not as sheltered as you seem to believe." Florian reached out and lifted his own tea cup, sipping calmly then returning the cup to the saucer without so much as a clink of china. Privately, he considered it a miracle he hadn't spilled the beverage all over himself. He might be outwardly calm, but inside he felt as if he'd shake apart.

He was sheltered, and a virgin as well, but he'd spent time with his peers and he'd learned early on to fade into the background and listen rather than join in the outrageous boasting. It had been very informative and had saved him quite a bit of teasing, although in that crowd, no one was completely immune. He'd even had the occasional proposal, which he'd thankfully been able to refuse, since most of them occurred after several hours of drinking. One of the other things Florian learned early was how to drink in moderation. He'd seen too many other men his age suffer for indulging too much or too often.

"Don't you have chores to attend to?" Ray was glaring at him and Florian wondered if he'd be feeling the lash before the day was out.  
Perhaps he'd pushed too hard. Perhaps...

"Don't make that face!" Ray snapped, reaching out to grab Florian's arm. "I'm in a bad mood and likely to take it out on whomever is near. So don't be near for a while. I'll see you at supper."

Florian nodded, his body gone cold from the inside out as he pushed away his unfinished breakfast and quickly left the table. He raced upstairs thanking whoever it was who provided small favors that he saw none of the staff on his way to the attic. Only when he was safely alone at the top of the mansion did he let the tears he'd been holding in fall.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Come with me." Ray held out his hand to the red-eyed, dirt-streaked man, waiting patiently as he stood and brushed himself off. "Don't say anything." Ray added as Florian opened his mouth to speak.

Obediently, Florian nodded. He wiped his hands with a rag before taking the offered hand.

"Leave the rag. You won't be back up here today."

Florian tossed the rag aside, not caring where it landed. He was sure he'd earned a trip to the cellar and was already bracing for it as he followed Ray meekly. He was startled when Ray hesitated on the second floor, then turned towards the bedrooms.

Ray ushered Florian into his suite and locked the door. He turned, still without expression, and studied the dirty, confused blond. Two long minutes passed and Florian started to fidget.

Finally taking pity on him, Ray pointed towards the bathroom. "Prepare a bath and call me when it's ready."

Florian nodded, grateful for something to do. He let the water run as he gathered the bathing items he thought Ray might want. Testing the water temperature, he decided it was warm enough to be comfortable.

"Ray?" Florian wasn't surprised to find that Ray had disrobed and was lounging on the bed, waiting. It was a magnificent sight and for a moment, Florian forgot what he was doing.

"Are you going to tell me the bath is ready?" There was amusement in that tone and Florian relaxed a little. Perhaps if he was very obedient, he'd be spared the whip. Perhaps he might even regain the ground he'd obviously lost this morning at breakfast.

"If you please, master." It was a risk and it earned him a curious look as Ray stood and walked across the room, perfectly comfortable at being so exposed.

"Master is it? Well, hurry and undress. You're going to bathe me and I don't want your clothes to get wet."

"Yes, sir." Florian replied, thankful that his voice only broke a little. He hadn't expected this!

Folding his garments neatly, he placed them on the floor beside the door so as not to get any of the chairs dirty. He arrived in the bathroom just as Ray was lowering himself into the water.

"Not quite warm enough. Remember that for next time. Not so much water, let some out. And take that round soap away, I don't care for the scent. Yes, the square one there. Use the blue cloth. I want a proper lather."

Florian fumbled with soaps and cloths, trying to comply with Ray's rapid-fire orders. At last he seemed to have gotten things right and was faced with the reality of actually washing the body he'd envisioned so many times. Knowing how his body reacted to those visions, Florian just knew this was going to be embarrassing.

Fixing his well-practiced polite smile in place, he turned to Ray and, with a well lathered wash cloth, reached out towards his chest.

"Back first," Ray instructed, shifting forward so Florian could comply. The blond's touch was tentative at first, but he grew more confident as Ray relaxed under his touch. But then he reached the waistline and wasn't so confident about washing anything lower than that. Making a decision, he slid the cloth up Ray's back one last time and over his shoulder to his chest. This time Ray didn't object. In fact, he leaned back to give Florian better access.

Florian reached far across the tub and Ray's body to wash his other side. Ray lifted his arms obligingly and gave Florian a smile.

"I can do this." Florian told himself happily just before Ray pulled him into the tub.

:::end part 8:::


	9. Chapter 9

"What are you doing?" Florian spluttered as he landed awkwardly against Ray. "The water. You're making a mess!" 

"Really? You're the one thrashing around. Settle down." He wrapped his arms around Florian and waited for the blond to settle against his chest. A glance at the floor showed that it was wet, but not flooded. It was a good thing he'd had Florian drain some of the water earlier, especially since there was likely to be more overflow before they left the tub.

With Florian resting fully against him, legs stretched out, Ray was reminded once again of how thin the other man was. It seemed almost wrong to continue what he had planned, but he suspected that pushing Florian away would only make the situation worse. His Amethyst had already lost so much yet now Ray was going to take one more irreplaceable thing from him - his innocence.

"You're over-thinking." Florian shifted carefully and pressed a kiss against Ray's cheek. "Two people naked in a bathtub shouldn't require that much thought."

"Are you sure?" Ray asked, almost choking on the words. He'd never wanted this kind of responsibility. His own deflowering had been painful and humiliating, his innocence bartered for a few coins needed to survive. True, this wasn't the same, but Florian was dependent on him... didn't that make this just as wrong? He held Florian a little tighter and sighed.

"If the circumstances were different, if I weren't in your debt, would you still hesitate?" Florian's eyes were dark and intense as he turned awkwardly and straddled Ray. They were both painfully aware of their bodies' reactions to each other's presence.

"Would you still offer?" There was a hint of desperation in Ray's question, and Florian's eyes softened as he leaned in and pressed his answer into Ray's mouth. "Yes."

"Then, just for today, your debt is canceled. I'll take you as my equal." Ray reached up and cupped the back of Florian's head, drawing him down for a more intense kiss. When they finally pulled apart, he couldn't resist adding, "At midnight, I own you again."

"I'm not Cinderella." Florian's warm mouth shyly nuzzled along Ray's jaw, causing him to bite back a moan of pleased surprise at the blond's unexpected boldness, a moan that was released when the warm body pressed closer and sharp teeth nipped his ear. "And thankfully, you're not the wicked stepmother."

"I should hope not. I wouldn't want to be Prince Charming either, the boring little milquetoast."

"You will never be boring." Florian laughed and moved his hips against Ray's seemingly unconsciously, causing the water to swirl around them. "Are we done talking now? I want to do something more interesting."

"Do you?" Ray pretended to consider, but his hands straying downwards and exploring ruined the effect. "Turn around."

Florian complied, turning awkwardly again as he tried not to spill any more of the bathwater. Letting Ray's hands guide him, he settled into Ray's lap and leaned back against Ray's chest.

"I could get used to this," Florian commented happily. "Perhaps without the water."

"The water is good. Are you warm enough?"

Florian nodded, letting his head rest against Ray's shoulder. He was excited and nervous, but here in the warm water with Ray holding him, he also felt safe.

"What should I...?" Florian shifted a bit nervously as Ray slid both hands slowly down Florian's chest. He was glad that he didn't have to see Ray's face and that the water helped conceal his eager flesh.

"Just relax. Close your eyes if you want." He waited for Florian to comply. "Good, now show me what you like." He guided Florian's hand downward, smiling a little when his timid Amethyst realized what Ray was asking. There was a long moment of uncertain silence, and then Florian made a decision. He guided Ray's hand into place and demonstrated what Ray had asked.

Trembling, Florian was too sensitive to fully relax, but he did lean back against Ray's chest, moaning just a little before he pressed his face into Ray's neck. Ray was concerned at first, afraid Florian was too embarrassed by what was happening, but that concern changed quickly when Florian licked his neck.

"You're a devil," Ray told him, shifting as best as he could to give the blond's ear a little bite. "And you look so innocent."

Florian laughed, but it turned into a long moan as Ray stroked him harder.

"Like that, do you? What about this?"

"No! Ray, I..." But the protest came too late. Florian tensed, his back arched and he gasped. After a moment he fell limply into Ray's arms.

Before Florian had time to be embarrassed by what had just happened, Ray turned Florian's head and kissed him hard. One handed, Ray reached out of the tub into the basket of soaps and supplies, selecting a small bottle of bath oil. The cork went flying when he pushed it out of the way but Ray barely noticed. He used a small amount of the oil to cover his other hand and then set the bottle aside, all while keeping Florian occupied with kissing.

"Lean away from me a little," he urged. "Like that." He didn't warn Florian, instead, Ray tried to keep him distracted while sliding his oil-slick hand downward. Florian reacted to the pressure, and then the invasion, but Ray kept kissing him and stroking his chest with his free hand.

"It's all right." Ray whispered, as much to encourage himself as to soothe Florian.

Florian inhaled shakily, but he nodded and pressed his back against the other man's chest, his hands resting on his strong thighs,  
accepting what was happening without complaint.

Ray withdrew his fingers slowly, taking a deep breath as he readied himself. He was torn between desire and doubt as he guided Florian into position.

It wasn't perfect, but neither of them expected it to be. The water was cooling and they were a bit cramped, making movement awkward. Still, it wasn't as painful as Florian expected, and it wasn't over as fast as Ray thought it would be. When it was done, Florian lay against Ray, both of them panting, hearts racing. The bathroom floor held more water than the bathtub.

"I'm not asking Laila to clean that up," Florian said, his voice quavering with laughter and too many emotions.

"Of course not. We'll throw towels down." Ray's voice held its own bit of humor. He poked at Florian's side. "Don't fall asleep. I'll never get you out of this damned tub." He braced Florian as the blond rose unsteadily and climbed out of the bath.

"What a mess." Florian wrapped himself in a towel before taking a stack and laying them out on the floor. "We'd better have someone check this later to make sure it's completely dry. You wouldn't want a leak."

"Fine, fine. Now leave the damned towels and get yourself dried off before you catch pneumonia. You're worse than a tropical plant." Ray climbed out of the tub and wrapped himself up before taking the rest of the towels from Florian and tossing them carelessly around the room. "There. Fine. Now get in bed."

Florian left the bathroom, moving gingerly. He toweled himself off quickly and collapsed onto the bed, pulling the turned-down covers up over his body and settling in with a sigh. When Ray climbed in next to him, Florian turned towards him, a nervous half-smile on his face.

"Ray? May I ask you something?"

A flippant retort was on the tip of Ray's tongue, but he swallowed it and asked quietly, "What is it?"

"Do you think, someday... you might love me?"

Throat tight, Ray was unable to answer. Instead, he drew Florian into his arms and pressed a kiss against his temple, holding on as tightly as he dared.

::end part 9::


	10. Chapter 10

"What are you doing?" Ray leaned against the door frame and laughed at Florian's expression of guilt and embarrassment. The blond looked down and tugged the last of the sheets free from the bed before answering. 

"These need to be washed."

"After last night, yes, I expect they do. However, that doesn't answer the question." Ray sauntered across the room and took the bundle of sheets out of Florian's arms. Tossing them carelessly onto the bed, he pulled Florian into an embrace. "Not too sore, I hope."

"I think I'll avoid horseback riding for a few days, but otherwise, I'm fine." Florian had hesitated for a second before replying but Ray wasn't worried, there was humor in that answer and the blond was relaxed in his arms.

"I'm hungry." Florian broke away from Ray's light kiss, giving his lover an apologetic smile.

"Then by all means, leave the laundry to the servants and let's go eat. You've already made me late."

"I did no such thing! You're the insatiable beast who kept me up most of the night." Florian slipped out of Ray's arms and picked up the sheets again, blushing faintly.

"Florian." Ray curled a hand possessively around his lover's arm. "I only employ people I can trust. Let them do their jobs."

Reluctantly, Florian set the sheets down again, staring at them until Ray gently pulled him away.

"Hurry up or I'll eat your breakfast as well as my own."

"You will not!" Florian protested as he followed Ray downstairs. His body was a bit stiff and he was sore, but he concentrated on following Ray and tried not to think about it. He promised himself a long soaking bath later, although he wondered if, after last night, he'd ever be able to soak in a bathtub again without pleasant, if not exactly relaxing memories of last night.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Polishing the old furniture in the attic was surprisingly relaxing. Florian smiled absently and rubbed a particularly dull spot on the old pianoforte. Like most of the furniture in the attic, it was in very good condition, with only minor wear. Once it was polished, it should bring a handsome price.

It was too bad, Florian mused, lifting the keyboard cover and running his fingers lightly over the keys. The instrument was terribly out of tune, but it didn't really matter - he was quite unskilled at music of any kind, much to his mother's sorrow.

To the best of Florian's recollection there was no piano downstairs. Perhaps Ray could be persuaded to keep this lovely instrument - even if he couldn't play, perhaps one of the servants had talent. Besides, Ray loved being surrounded by beautiful things, and the pianoforte was lovely to look at even if no one could play it. Florian could just picture himself relaxing in one of the salon's comfortable chairs, Ray sitting just a few feet away listening to someone play the pianoforte. Perhaps Laila would like to learn...

The shock was like ice water coursing through his body. Laila. It was no secret that she loved Ray and didn't much care for Florian. How would she react if she knew? He sighed, knowing there was little he could do that would make the knowledge easier for her to accept. But perhaps if there was some small token that could serve as a peace offering.

Florian turned away from the instrument casting his eyes over the array of furniture, looking for... there! He opened the small chest and took out the pretty hand mirror he'd found just a few days ago. He'd placed it and a few other trinkets in the chest for safekeeping, intending to polish them once the furniture was done.

It wasn't much, but perhaps he could clean it, and if it was nice enough, he could find a way to suggest that Ray present it to Laila as a gift. It hardly settled matters, but it might soften her a little to know that, even with Florian in the house, Ray still valued her.

Feeling calmer, Florian took up a clean rag and gently cleaned the dust and grime from the mirror. There were ornate carvings on the gilt frame and handle and it took special attention to get them clean. Settling into a nearby chair, Florian shifted towards the window for better light and concentrated on his work. After a while, his attention began to wonder as he continued the slow cleaning. He shifted a little to ease the discomfort in his sore body and his thoughts turned to the previous evening.

To say that his first lover was not at all what Florian expected was a huge understatement. For as long as he remembered, his mother and those around her had talked about his marriage prospects, evaluating eligible women much the way he imagined a farmer evaluated his livestock. There was no talk of love, of course - his would be a marriage for the sole purpose of salvaging the Rochefort line. There would be two children at least - following the royal tradition of the heir and a spare. And his bride would most likely be from a foreign aristocracy, as his mother would never have tolerated a union with a commoner, no matter how rich.

Perhaps he should be more grateful that Ray bought him. At least tt had saved him from a forced marriage. As for his peers, Florian didn't mind the rumors and gossip as much as he'd feared that he would. After all, being called a concubine hardly compared to being accused of killing one's mother. The familiar pain settled in the pit of Florian's stomach. He swallowed hard against it and concentrated on his cleaning, willing his hands not to shake. He couldn't do this - he wouldn't do this to himself. He'd tortured himself enough over his mother's death and those of his aunt and uncle. He couldn't change what happened, no matter how desperately he wanted to do so.

No, he had to let them rest. He needed to keep their memories alive but move on. He couldn't harm himself any longer by starving himself. For the first time in a long time, he had someone to care about who seemed to care about him as well, and it was a welcome change.

Florian smiled faintly at the memory of Ray sitting beside him in bed last night, holding him while they drank wine and finished an entire box of decadent chocolates someone had given Ray as a gift. It was very unlike Florian to indulge like that, but then last night had been anything but typical. Feeling himself stir with interest just at the thought of Ray's skin against his own, Florian set the mirror safely back in the chest and stood up. He paced the length of the attic twice trying not to picture Ray's handsome body, or his face, flushed, and eyes bright as he collapsed against Florian.

Helpless against the memories, and the sensations that still resonated in his body, Florian moaned and increased his pacing. No sooner had he hoped that no one would see him like this than the door opened and Laila's familiar footsteps approached.

Frantic to regain his composure, Florian hurried as quietly as he could towards the far side of the attic and stood behind a large wardrobe.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Florian?" Laila scanned the attic, frowning when she didn't see the blond among the array of furniture. Unlike the jumbled dusty mess of a few days ago, now everything was spread out and the freshly-polished wood gleamed. There were some beautiful pieces here. Perhaps she'd ask Ray if she could trade her current bureau for that highboy. She set the lunch tray down on a small oval end table and went to examine it.

"Laila?" Florian flinched when she started and slammed the drawer. It sounded unusually loud in the spacious, uncarpeted attic. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"You didn't," She snapped, but then she relented. "I wasn't paying attention." She half-turned and gestured towards the tray. "I brought your lunch. Ray said I'm to come back in an hour and if you haven't cleaned your plate he'll come up here and force feed you."

"He would." Florian shook his head, an affectionate smile on his face.

"I thought so."

"What?" Florian frowned at her in confusion. She had a sad, resigned expression that puzzled him. What had he said?

"I suppose I should give you my best wishes." There was no conviction in the statement. In fact, Laila sounded almost angry.

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand." Florian reached out to comfort her but she backed away from his touch. He actually did understand, but he couldn't think of anyway to admit it, so he feigned confusion and let her speak.

"I love him. Even you're not so blind that you haven't noticed."

"Laila." Florian's chest tightened as he took in her abject misery. He hadn't even spared her a thought last night. How could he have been so thoughtless? "I am sorry."

"You shouldn't be!" She was angry again but this time for a different reason. "You're what he wants." She closed in on him and grabbed the front of his loose workshirt with both fists. "If you ever do anything to hurt him..." Laila let go and stepped back so she could look directly into his eyes. She wanted to make herself perfectly clear, even to someone as dull as Florian. "If you hurt him, I promise I will make you suffer."

Florian stood, stunned, as she stared at him fiercely for a moment before turning and walking away with a deliberate pace. He strode to the far end of the room where he could look out towards the distant ruins of his old home. He'd avoided that view as much as possible while he'd been working up here.

"I've already suffered," he whispered, turning away from the view outside towards the attic where the results of his labor shone so brightly. He reached into the chest where he'd hidden the pretty hand mirror he'd been cleaning when Laila arrived. He viewed his reflection abstractedly.

"I don't want to hurt anyone, Laila, but I won't sacrifice my chance at happiness either. Not when I finally have one." He spoke the words into the mirror, then looked up, setting the mirror down to be finished later. He was done sacrificing, he reminded himself as he settled into his favorite armchair and ate his lunch.

::end part 10::


	11. Chapter 11

"You wanted to see me?" Laila stood uncertainly in the doorway of Ray's study. He'd sent a servant to fetch her, something he rarely did. Usually he'd come find her, taking a moment to raid the kitchen for a snack or simply greet whichever servants he encountered along the way. When he wasn't conducting business or entertaining, he rarely demanded the formalities that were the norm in most aristocratic households. 

"Please come in and close the door." Ray waited for her to comply and then motioned her towards a chair. He remained seated at his desk, papers and books pushed aside so that the blotter was clear. He glanced down at his empty blotter as if gathering his thoughts before looking up again and making eye contact.

"Is something wrong?" Laila couldn't stop herself from asking even though she knew she should wait for Ray to speak. She was still hurting from her conversation with Florian in the attic and she dreaded what she might hear next.

"I was going to ask you that, Laila." Ray leaned back, purposely taking on a more relaxed pose to try and ease her concerns. He had no wish to make her worry. "You've been unusually quiet these past few days, and I haven't seen you after dinner in almost a week."

Laila looked down, her fingers pulling at the hem of her tunic. She wanted more than anything to just blurt out everything that was on her mind, but she didn't know where to begin. She looked up at the man she loved, eyes misting, and shook her head helplessly.

"Laila?" Ray was on his feet, circling the desk immediately. Any intention of keeping a distance between them vanished at the sight of her distress. "What's wrong? Has something happened?"

Unable to speak, she nodded and tugged harder at her hem. A fine white handkerchief was dangled in front of her, just brushing her hand. She took it with a watery smile.

"Laila," Ray drew a chair up beside her and perched on the edge of it. He took her hand awkwardly, trying to soothe her. "You know I'm not good at this sort of thing," he reminded her, getting a weak smile in return.

Laila wiped her eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to regain her composure. At last she was able to meet his eyes. "Did you call me here to tell me about Florian?" She choked out the words, hoping against hope that she was wrong. Ray's expression told her she wasn't.

"You know, then?" There was a bit of relief in his voice and somehow that made Laila feel a little better. "You talked to Florian?"

She nodded, leaving out the details. If Florian was the man she thought he was, the details of their conversation in the attic would remain private.

Knowing it was foolish, Laila couldn't stop herself from throwing herself at Ray. Pressing him back into his chair, she settled on his lap and kissed him. She put everything she could into the contact, her love for him, her need to be with him, her acceptance of every part of him. Florian might be able to offer the first two, but she doubted that he could ever truly accept Ray's alter-ego, Noir.

"Laila, don't." Ray pushed her back gently and stared at her, studying her in the way he studied plans for the most impossible of jewel robberies. It was like he was weighing options and ideas, rejecting each one in turn until he was left with only one conclusion.

"I can't..."

"Why?" It was wrong of her to ask and she knew it, but her heart demanded an answer. Why Florian and not her? She adored Noir; why couldn't she have Noir's love in return?"

"Please don't." Ray never pleaded, but there supplication in his tone and in his expression as he gently pushed her away. "You're my best friend, Laila." He paused, gathering his resolve before he continued. "I need you as my friend."

She wanted to scream at him, to cry, to demand why she was good enough to trust with his secrets, but not with his love. Why did that pampered pet deserve something so precious?

"Laila." Ray's voice was stronger now, more sure. "I'm depending on you as my closest friend to help Florian settle into this household. He's to be treated with the same respect as I am, and our relationship is to be handled discreetly. That means no gossiping among the servants, and no disrespect."

He waited for Laila's reluctant nod of understanding before adding, "and in the future, I expect that my requests in regards to Florian will not be conveniently forgotten."

Laila swallowed hard and nodded. She'd been foolish enough to think that her neglecting to send workers to help Florian in the attic had been overlooked. She knew better - Ray seldom missed anything that happened in his household.

"I understand." She said slowly, then added, "It won't happen again."

She rose and turned to leave, still clutching Ray's handkerchief. She needed to leave before she embarrassed herself even more, but she stopped obediently when Ray called her name. She turned back to look at him, almost afraid of what she might see or hear next. That fear subsided when she saw that rare soft smile on Ray's face. If Florian could bring that expression to Ray's face...

Before Ray could say whatever it was he'd intended, Laila gave him the best smile she could manage. "I'm happy for you." It came out as barely more than a whisper but Ray heard her clearly. His smile broadened and he actually diverted his eyes, almost shyly.

"Thank you, Laila. Would you mind asking the cook to put some meat scraps in a pan. It's almost feeding time for the menagerie."

"Of course." Laila left the room quickly, closing the door behind her. She paused a minute outside the study, trying to settle her emotions. Her love for Ray hadn't changed, but she felt curiously lighter anyway. He'd called her his best friend and, perhaps, she could be happier with that than with being his lover. After all, she knew Ray's darker side better than most although she'd never felt his whip. But Florian... something told her he had the harder path to follow as Ray's lover. And if he was the spoiled aristocrat she believed him to be, Ray would tire of him soon enough just as he tired of any jewel that had lost its luster.

Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Laila headed off towards the kitchen to deliver Ray's request. It was no odder than some of the other diversions he'd tried and eventually discarded. And, although Laila would never admit it within Ray's hearing, she - and most of the kitchen staff - found great amusement in watching their master feeding stray cats.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Hold still, you've got dirt on your nose." Ray took one of the clean rags that lay neatly folded on the small library table and brushed it lightly across Florian's nose. "Better. Now show me your discovery, the cats are waiting."

Florian laughed and took Ray's arm, pulling him along as he wove through the array of furniture towards his favorite piece. He paused beside the highboy that Laila had been looking at earlier. "Laila seems to have taken an interest in this piece, by the way. But look!" He started moving again and Ray followed, bemused by the blond's child-like excitement. It was quite foreign to be around someone who was so open but Ray found himself following willingly, oddly interested in whatever treasure Florian had uncovered.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Florian stopped beside the pianoforte and gestured towards it grandly. "It needs tuning, of course, but it has a very nice sound." He opened the cover and pressed a random series of keys, letting the sound fill the large attic before turning back to Ray with a delighted smile.

"Do you play?" Ray asked mildly, unable to match Florian's enthusiasm over such an impractical object. He walked around the pianoforte to avoid revealing his disinterest to his lover, but Florian had already sensed it.

"I never learned, but perhaps one of the servants." He grasped for ideas as he added, "I could take lessons, or perhaps Laila..." He trailed off knowing that Ray was not convinced. Something in his chest tightened and he was ready to admit defeat, but he remembered his conversation with Laila earlier in the day and it strengthened him. He took a step forward and intercepted Ray in his circuit around the pianoforte.

"I have no right to ask, but I will anyway. If you could find some way to keep this," he rested a hand lightly on the instrument, "I would be very grateful."

"Would you?" Ray studied Florian with an unreadable expression before looking down at the instrument. It was a beautiful piece, and there was more than enough room for it in any of the barely used formal rooms on the first floor. Still, it would bring quite a price at auction...

"Ray?" Florian made the name a plea and he reached for his lover in supplication, unable to stop himself no matter what his instincts told him. He didn't understand it himself, why this was so important, but it was, and he would not let the pianoforte go without trying everything in his power to keep it.

"Do you want it that desperately?" Ray asked, with a hint of empathy in his eyes. He understood want and desire better than Florian ever would. He touched Florian's face tenderly, caressing him before drawing him close but not quite into an embrace. "I would have to add its value onto your debt. With that and the cost of lessons you're likely never to be free of me."

"You don't sound terribly disappointed." Florian angled his head and leaned in to brush his lips against Ray's cheek. His eyes were glowing with delight.

"Should I be? I intend to get full value of your debt. It saves me the trouble of hiring both a valet and a secretary. You'll have little time to play with your new toy."

"Slave driver." Florian teased before Ray pulled him in close and kissed him fiercely.

"If you weren't sore from last night I'd have you right here on the floor." Ray backed Florian up against the pianoforte and let his hands wander, laughing when Florian responded eagerly. "I've created a monster."

"Nothing of the sort," Florian responded primly before doing some exploring of his own. "I understand that Phantom Thief Noir likes a challenge. I'm just trying to oblige."

"Are you indeed?" Ray smiled and shifted slightly to allow his lover better access to bare skin under loosened clothing. He continued his own exploring as he pressed Florian even harder against the pianoforte. "Never let it be said that I would object to someone who is so obliging." He claimed Florian's lips before the blond could reply and kept kissing him until Florian was breathless.

The cats would just have to wait.

::end part 11::


	12. Chapter 12

"Are you sure you don't need me to accompany you? I could run some of your errands. I could help you carry packages."

Laila was practically bouncing in her eagerness to get out of the house and away from the overzealous Florian. The man was driving the entire household mad with his manic cleaning spree and preparations for the relocation of the pianoforte from the attic to the music room.

"I would take you with me, Laila, but I'm meeting a client on a sensitive matter and he's most adamant about his privacy." Ray gave her a regretful smile as he climbed into the car. "I'll return as quickly as I can. In the meantime, I recommend you find something to do in the gardens - at least you'll avoid most of the noise."

Laila waved him off and turned slowly and trudged towards the house. She sighed as Mariette rushed past looking harried. Despite Ray's suggestion, Laila felt as if it were her responsibility to make sure there was no damage done in the cleaning and rearranging of the music room.

It certainly looked different now, with the coverings removed from the furniture and the drapes opened to let in the light. Florian was up on a chair dusting the chandelier and Laila shook her head, wondering which would sustain damage first - the man or the light fixture.

"Oh, Laila. Would you mind taking a look from down there - did I miss any cobwebs?" Florian waved the duster cheerfully. His good mood was quite annoying.

"Just one, to the right a bit. Over more. Yes, there. You've got it. I don't see any others." She shifted her attention from the chandelier to the man. "Why don't you leave the rest of the dusting for later. Ray wants the pianoforte moved before he returns and we've got to clean the carpet."

"Yes, of course." Florian scrambled down and returned the chair to its place beside a small table near the left-hand window. "Did you see what I found?" He gestured to the harp that had been in the corner, concealed by a cloth. It was missing several strings and it could stand a polish, but it, like the pianoforte, was a lovely instrument. "I can't believe no one knew this was here."

"I'm sure Ray saw it when he first purchased this place, but I'm not sure he's been in this room since. You know where his interests lie."

"But this is every bit as lovely as a set of jewels." Florian ran his fingers lightly down the satiny wood. "Look at the inlay here, and the carving." There was a pattern of flowers and vines running along most of the length of harp, the wood carefully carved to create the raised pattern, accented by inlaid mother of pearl for the flowers.

Laila shook her head. She was far too familiar with that look in Florian's eyes. It was much the same as the look in Ray's eyes when he saw a set of jewels that caught his fancy. It wasn't that she didn't understand, it was just that objects, no matter how beautiful, would never compare to someone she cared about. She was surrounded by beautiful things in Ray's mansion, but it was Ray who held her attention. Perhaps this was another reason why she and Ray would never be more than close friends.

"Laila?" Florian's focus was completely on her now, and his eyes were kind. She blinked and looked down at the harp to avoid his gaze. She didn't like it, but it made her change her assessment - Florian wasn't exactly like Ray, his desire for beauty was tempered by his compassion. Florian was the bridge between someone like Ray and someone like herself, and in spite of her intentions, she appreciated him for it. But just a little.

"The man's coming tomorrow to tune the pianoforte, you might as well have him fix the harp while he's at it. Ray's likely to want to keep it, but even if he doesn't, it will be worth more if it's restrung and in tune." Laila reached out and touched the honey-colored wood. "I'll tell Ray I approved it."

"Thank you, Laila." For a moment it looked like Florian wanted to give her a hug, but he controlled himself and settled for almost hugging the harp instead. He smiled as happily as a child and the sight made Laila smile in return before she realized what she was doing.

A little annoyed with herself, she hurried off to oversee the carpet cleaning. She'd be glad when the pianoforte was moved and she could escape to another part of the house. The household had never been so unsettled before Florian arrived.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I thought you couldn't play?"

Florian jumped guiltily, twisting around to face Ray even as his hands flew from the keyboard into his lap. "You startled me. I didn't know you were back."

"Perhaps you were too intent on your new toy to notice. Should I be jealous?" Ray settled on the bench beside Florian, his back to the instrument. His face was rosy from the brisk air and his hair was attractively tousled. Without hesitation, Florian leaned bent closer for a kiss.

"It's wasted effort if you are. You don't see me kissing the pianoforte."

"Perhaps you're just hiding your true affections. You did spend a lot of time in the attic with this old thing." Ray leaned back, resting his elbow on the keyboard, which let out a discordant groan.

"Don't call this lovely instrument an old thing." Florian scolded, placing his hands protectively over the ivory keys. "And anyway, I wasn't playing, I was just┘ well, I did learn a few basics, but I wasn't a very good student and there wasn't money for extra lessons so┘" Florian ran his fingers lovingly over the keys, too lightly to make a sound. As he leaned toward Ray, the dark-haired man straightened and wrapped an arm around Florian▓s waist to draw him close, pressing his lips into Florian's hair.

"Come out with me this evening. I'll take you dining at the club. There's an orchestra on the weekends, but on week nights there's only a pianist. We'll go early before it gets crowded." When Florian hesitated, Ray pulled him tighter, just holding him for a moment before adding, "It's very discreet. No one will bother you."

There was a pause and Ray could feel the tension in Florian's body, but finally Florian seemed to make a decision. He pulled away just enough to look at Ray and smile. "I'd like that, thank you."

"A bath then," Ray decided, letting Florian go before standing. He waited for Florian to join him and smiled at the wisp of cobweb that he saw decorating Florian's hair. "We could take it together but we'd be late leaving for the club. You go first while I tell Laila not to bother with supper for us tonight."

Florian nodded, hesitating only a moment before leaving the room. He'd wait until they were at the club to mention the harp.

::end:: 


	13. Chapter 13

This concludes the first story arc in the Destiny series.  
The next arc will begin after a short break and will be an alternate version of the Petit Noel storyline. 

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"I'm so full." Florian leaned back against the pillows and smiled up at Ray who was still undressing. Ray returned the smile and tossed aside the last of his garments before sliding under the covers that Florian held up for him.

"Shall I rub your stomach for you?" Ray offered with a devilish grin as he settled on his side so he could look into Florian's eyes. "It was good to see you clear your plate. I'm glad you enjoyed the meal."

"I did. The food was excellent, not that the food here isn't good but... the change of scenery was nice and the music was delightful."

"At the rate you're going, we'll have enough instruments for our own orchestra." Ray smoothed a few strands of hair away from Florian's face and continued running his hand down Florian's torso until it came to rest on the smooth muscles of his stomach. True to his offer, he rubbed gently, smiling at Florian's contented sigh.

"I'm glad you don't think I'm being foolish." Florian said slowly, his eyes already glazing a little in reaction to Ray's hand moving over his skin. "Thank you for keeping the pianoforte and the harp. Perhaps if I could find a primer of some sort, I might learn some of the basics without the expense of lessons."

"And deprive Madame Fonte of a new pupil? After she was kind enough to agree to teach you, I'm sure you wouldn't want to disappoint her." Ray's hand strayed a bit lower and it was almost a full minute before Florian responded.

"You've already arranged lessons?" Florian's excitement and gratitude were almost enough to distract him from Ray's attentions so Ray ended the conversation with a passionate kiss. For quite a while after that Florian's only words were "more" and "please" and finally "yes".

"I love you," he whispered sleepily into Ray's ear much later when they were sated and ready for sleep. There would be a few marks visible on Florian's fair skin come morning, and he was sure he'd be walking a bit stiffly, but he was far too happy to worry about such things. He was safe and cared for in Ray's arms and the loneliness and despair of the past weeks were a fading memory.

"Sleep well," Ray murmured into his ear and Florian heard the words as the endearment they were meant to be. He drifted away into sleep smiling.

XXXXXXXXXX

"Again." Madame Fonte commanded, her voice surprisingly strong for a woman so small and frail looking. "Come along, Florian, don't be like your mother. Concentrate."

"My mother? But..." Florian's hands dropped away from the keyboard as he turned to stare at Madame Fonte. He wasn't sure if she had actually known his mother, or if she were confused. She appeared to be at least eighty so either option was possible.

"Pay attention." A slap to the back of his hand brought Florian's attention back to the pianoforte and the simple piece he was supposed to be learning. "We'll talk after the lesson over a cup of tea if you'd like, but you're on the Count's time now and he's paying for you to learn."

"Yes, Madame," Florian said meekly, blushing under her stern gaze. He felt as if he were five again and being scolded by his tutor.

At the end of the hour, Madame Fonte motioned for him to slide over on the wide bench. Taking a seat beside him, she placed her hands carefully on the keyboard, took a deep breath, and played an intricate tune that Florian recognized immediately.

"It took your mother ages to learn that. I see from your expression that you recognize it. Very well." She stood again and went over to her bag where she rummaged for a moment before producing a thin, slightly worn book. Opening it, she set the music on the pianoforte and tapped the left-hand page. "Consider this your assignment. I'll expect to hear you play this at your next lesson."

"Yes, Madame." Florian offered her a smile. He was grateful that she was giving him something interesting to practice. He'd been dreading scales and finger exercises. Sliding off the bench, he gave her a half-bow. "Thank you for your patience today, Madame Fonte. May I offer you tea?"

"You may, your Grace. Will the Count be joining us?"

"Unfortunately, his business required him to be away at this time. Perhaps next week?" Florian offered his arm to the elderly lady and escorted her into the sitting room where Laila had agreed to have tea and cakes laid out. She was waiting for their arrival and smiled politely through the formal greetings.

"Would you join us please, Laila?" Florian asked quietly as he accepted the cup of tea Laila served him. She shook her head slightly, declining the offer, but added a grateful smile to show that she appreciated the offer. She didn't care for the formalities of entertaining, and she wanted to take advantage of Ray's absence to straighten his study.

"Your patron has an interesting household." Madame Fonte remarked as she surveyed the details of the sitting room. "Such an unusual mix."

"I believe that some of the furniture was acquired with the house, Madame. The Count hasn't had the time to completely redecorate." Florian wasn't sure she was actually referring to the dИcor, but he chose to interpret her comments that way.

"No, of course not, nor should he. Such waste, these people who cast out perfectly good things simply so they can buy something new. Your mother was never like that. She was a good, steady woman who understood the importance of tradition."

"Yes, Madame." Florian looked into his teacup in the hope that he wouldn't give away the confused mix of emotions he was feeling. He knew the woman meant no harm, but he wasn't sure he was ready for this conversation.

"If this is too difficult for you, dear, you must tell me." She reached over and patted his hand sympathetically. "I can go on sometimes, even when I don't intend to do so." She patted him one last time and leaned back into her chair. "You must miss her terribly."

"I try not to, Madame. The Count has been most kind to take me in and find tasks to occupy my days."

"You do seem well cared for, dear, if perhaps a bit thin. But then, your father was always thin too. Even before he was injured. You look just like him, but you've got your mother's smile."

Madame Fonte reached over and set her empty teacup down on an end table. "I should let you return to your duties, Florian. But if you'll permit me just a few minutes, I'll tell you a story that you might not know about your parents."

"Please, Madame, I would appreciate hearing anything you'd be willing to share. I'm afraid there is much I never knew about my parents. After his death, my mother didn't speak of my father often, other than to say how much I looked like him."

"I didn't have many occasions to visit your mother once she was married, but I taught her and your father the piano. They were young then, not quite teenagers, and at first they couldn't stand each other..."

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

It was late when Ray finally left his study. He made his usual tour through the downstairs as was his nightly habit before retiring to bed. He wasn't exactly surprised to hear music as he approached the music room. He was surprised, however, to hear such a complex piece when Florian had had only one lesson.

Peering around the partly-open door he smiled at the sight of Florian, his eyes closed and his face set in concentration while his hands moved along the keys. But...

Casting a glance around the room, Ray spotted the true source of the music √ the music box. It was open and several discs were arrayed around it as if they'd been played or were waiting for their turn.

Moving quietly, he tiptoed silently across the plush carpet until he was directly behind Florian. With a swift movement he grabbed the blond and turned him, planting a demanding kiss before Florian had time to struggle. The man responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around Ray's neck and pulling him in closer.

"Practicing, I see." Ray teased when they finally broke apart. He settled onto the bench beside Florian and ran his hand lightly over the keyboard.

"More like seeking inspiration." He turned slightly towards Ray. "I didn't want to go to bed alone."

"Then shall we give your inspiration a rest? Let the servants clean up in the morning, I've got more important things for you to do tonight."

"Do you?" Florian raised one delicate eyebrow as he closed the keyboard cover and stood. "I suppose this means I won't be getting much sleep tonight."

"Smart man." Ray slid off the bench and went to turn off the music box but Florian caught his arm.

"Wait a moment." He circled the bench and held up his hands in a classic couple's dance pose. Ray made a face but obliged, taking Florian into his arms and waltzing him around a few times until they reached the music box. Freeing one hand, Ray reached over and turned it off.

Taking Florian's hand again, he waltzed him to the door before they separated. Ray slid his arm around Florian's waist and leaned over to whisper in his ear. "Come upstairs and we'll try a new dance."

"Will there be music?" Florian asked, laughing as he grabbed Ray's hand and pulled him down the hallway towards the stairs.

"Always," Ray vowed wearing his most salacious grin.

::end::


End file.
